Avalon's Angel
by Moonlite Streak
Summary: It had been a long week. Through all the dark times that had reigned so recently, a small reprieve from his duties was welcomed whole-heartedly, and Merlin knew just what he was going to do with it. Merlin/Freya drabble series, please R&R! :D CH.2 OUT!
1. Avalon's Angel

_Author's Note: Set after S4 finale. Will become a series of Merlin/Freya oneshots that will update whenever I find inspiration._

_Hint: Reviews=Inspiration!_

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><p>It had been a long week. Through all the dark times that had reigned so recently, a small reprieve from his duties was welcomed whole-heartedly, and Merlin knew just what he was going to do with it.<p>

"How bodes Albion?" Freya inquired, a soft lilt to her heavenly voice. Merlin started back to the present, and smirked before responding.

"Well, if you mean King Clotpole, then yeah, he's fine." A dainty eyebrow arched at his answer, and Merlin decided to move on, lest the wrath of the Lady be bestowed upon him for his rudeness.

"The royal arse," (His name's Arthur, Freya supplied helpfully. Merlin rolled his eyes and continued,) "-and his lady Guinevere married, finally. It seems that without his idiot uncle to influence him, he is able to make the right decisions."

At the mention of the King and Queen, the two lovers sobered slightly, the subject bordering far too close to their current separation for comfort. Merlin tightened his arm around her, as if reassuring himself of her presence. The constant soundtrack of the lake they sat by played with the sounds of the forest, waves rolling in time with birdsong.

"And you call the Once and Future King of Albion a clotpole?" Freya asked, jesting at his disrespectful vocabulary to ease the silence that had fallen in their contemplations. Merlin gladly accepted the olive branch for what it was, not missing a beat.

"Well not _a_ clotpole, _the_ clotpole!" A gleeful smile lit up his blue eyes, as Merlin delighted in his own wit. A playful swat to his head brought him back to reality, (it's not so bad, he mused, drinking in his lover's tumbling hair and admonishing eyes…wait…_admonishing?_)

"You should be more respectful Merlin!" She scolded lightly, unaware of the affect she was having on his poor love-addled mind. However, (after shaking himself from his reverie), Merlin would not be deterred from his point.

"But he deserves it!" He claimed, reminiscing on hours spent tolling away in his highness' stables; just yesterday he had been thrown in the stocks! (again.) Well, that time may be justified, and come to think of it, maybe the time before that, and the time before_ that_ as well…

"But Gwaine still calls him Princess!" Merlin added, grasping at straws.

Freya just looked amused.

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><p><em>AN: And there you have it, the first story. This drabble follows the concept that Freya can walk on land etc, but only within the lake's boundaries, for example she can't go into the treeline. _

_Furthermore, the drabbles will usually take place in the aftermath of an episode (this one, as metioned earlier, takes places in the days following the finale). Please review and give feedback, everything is appreciated!_

_Love,- Moonlite Streak-_


	2. Lamia

_Author's Note: Spoilers for episode 4x08, Lamia. Merlin/Freya pairing._

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><p>Merlin knew that there was a reason he wasn't enchanted by the Lamia.<p>

It wasn't that he wasn't a knight - there were others that had been under her spell before his party had stumbled along.

It wasn't that he was magic - that would be too simple.

It wasn't even as Arthur claimed - that he was a girl.

Because Merlin knew what it was. It was _love_.

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><p>When they first found her, when it had first started, Lamia lay unconscious in Percival's arms. Her pale skin was marred with dirt and scratches alike, and long tangled brown hair fell over her shoulder.<p>

The image tore at Merlin's heart. She even wore a tattered purple dress – the same colour as the one he had stolen from Morgana to give to his love so long ago.

Everywhere he looked he could see _her_, and when Lamia looked up with those baby blue eyes it was like a physical blow. Because Merlin's heart had been in his throat – from a distance she had resembled his beloved. But the illusion had been shattered. Now she was just a girl.

The first time Merlin knew that something was off was when he noticed the knights' overprotectiveness. He'd put it down to their hero's complex and left it at that. But when they started lashing out at him, verbally at first, he knew that there was something larger at play.

But as Leon had said, he was just a servant.

So he put up with it. As he tried to find a way to separate them from their beloved Lamia, they became more and more senseless.

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><p>He was laying on the cold, hard ground of the forest. Contrary to popular belief, the grass was not, in fact, soft and yielding; but scratchy and brambly. The knobbly roots of surrounding trees dug welts into his back, sure to leave some bruises, but Merlin found this insignificant as other bruises, inflicted by his <em>friends,<em> left him struggling to breathe.

The knights had left; Lamia cast one more scathing glare his way before snuggling deeper into Percival's torso. Merlin glared back to the best of his ability, waiting till she was out of sight to cough up the blood that had been pooling in his mouth.

Gwen bustled over, eyes and mouth wide with horror as she watched him struggle to sit up, one arm held protectively to his chest.

They locked gazes, gazes that quickly steeled with identical resolve. Something had to be done, before everything was lost.

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><p>They talked, later that night, while Lamia slept and Elyan, the knight on sentry duty, was out of hearing range.<p>

Gwen wrapped up his wounds best she could with what was available to them - cleaning them with the water from her drought-skin and using the bandages from Gauis' small physician's bag. At first he flinched, the human contact reminding him of today's assault, but she soothed him with her tender words and tender actions.

She told him that he had to be more careful - he stubbornly replied that he couldn't let her get hurt. She was like the little sister he never had, he said. Gwen smiled when he said that, continuing to smooth the wet rag over his alabaster skin.

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><p>Merlin finally figured it out as they sat by the campfire. It was as Gwen spoke about Arthur, the love for him clearly shining through her chocolate eyes. Merlin's gaze was unwittingly drawn to the resting Lamia, and the resemblance she bore to the girl he still loved, even today.<p>

It wasn't that he wasn't a knight - there were others that had been under her spell before his party had stumbled along.

It wasn't that he was magic - that would be too simple.

It wasn't even as Arthur claimed - that he was a girl.

Because Merlin knew what it was. It was _love_.

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><p><em>AN: And that's it! Hope you enjoyed this little drabble ;) Some more Merlin/Freya goodness, and why I think that the Lamia's curse couldn't touch Merlin. Any ideas, suggestions, comments and critiques, please review and PM me - I'll respond as soon as I can. _

_I'll just mention quick - the drabbles are stand-alone unless specifically stated in the Author's Note._

_Until next time,_

_-Moonlite Streak-_


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